


I Wish I'd Said These Things Before

by IndigoFudge



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Losers Club (IT), Angst with a Happy Ending, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is Dead But Not For Long, Getting Together, Ghost Eddie Kaspbrak, Love Confession, M/M, Richie Tozier Flirts, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Soft Richie Tozier, Temporary Character Death, The Kissing Bridge (IT), The Turtle CAN Help Us (IT)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23956786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoFudge/pseuds/IndigoFudge
Summary: Richie recarves the R + E on the Kissing Bridge, and then he sits down and talks for a while.What he doesn't know is that Eddie is listening.OrIn the ghost world, you're tethered for eternity to the spot where the greatest act of love for you was shown. For Eddie, that just happens to be the R + E carving, even though he wasn't aware of its existence until he died.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 28
Kudos: 200





	1. Eddie Makes His Choice

It's just Richie and Eddie now. Everyone else has gone to insult It, hopefully to death.

Richie is inconsolable. 

"Eddie, look at me. Look at me." His eyes are filling with tears. "You're doing fine. You did so fucking good up there. Bev and everyone else are up killing It, but I know if they could be right here, they would.”

Eddie forces himself to look at Richie. "Can I rest now?" It takes a lot of effort to form the words; his lips and tongue are numb with blood loss. "'Cause I'm, I'm really tired."

"It's okay, you don't need to rest," soothes Richie. "You gotta stay awake! Keep those eyes open, okay?"

"Can't." Eddie sucks in a breath. His lungs burn like fire. "Holy shit, this hurts." _How many broken ribs do I have? How bruised are my lungs?_

Richie winces as if he's the one in pain, as if seeing Eddie in pain hurts him. "I know, buddy. I know." He helps Eddie sit up more, hand lingering on Eddie's shoulder for several moments. "You still with me?"

"Yeah," says Eddie. He whimpers. Tendrils of pain curl around his lungs, constricting them. Blood rises in his throat. 

"Whoa, you alright? How can I, uh. How can I help?" Richie looks at Eddie, earnestly. _Desperately._

Eddie leans his head back against the rock wall of the cave and hardly notices how uncomfortable it is. “Can you hold my hand?" He's shaking with fear and pain. "I know it's... stupid. 'M not a baby, I shouldn't need anyone to- to hold my hand, but-"

Richie doesn't hesitate. He just reaches out and takes Eddie's hand. "It's not stupid," he says gently. "Not at all."

Insults echo through the cave.

"Okay, Eds, I just have to yell for a second," Richie says. He briefly looks towards where the others are yelling at Pennywise and calls: " _A dumb fucking clown!"_ He looks angrier than Eddie's ever seen him. Then he turns back around and resumes holding Eddie's hand. "Keep breathing, I'm right here."

The pain is unbearable. Eddie can feel his time running out. "Richie," he gasps. "I, ah- I need you to do something for me." He swallows blood and blinks to clear his vision, he blinks until Richie's face comes into focus, he blinks until the tears in his eyes have gone away. 

"What? I'll do anything." Richie leans closer, his lips parted, eyes searching Eddie's face. His expression looks pleading. He grips Eddie's hands tighter.

Eddie sighs. His vision is going fuzzy again, making everything blurry except for Richie frantically hovering in front of him. "Richie," he whispers once more. "I need you to go help them. Kill- kill It. Okay? Can you do that? _Please._ " He stifles a groan. Everything hurts, but as seconds tick by - and more blood seeps from his body - it just feels cold and numb. He'd almost prefer the pain.

"No, I'm not leaving you here to-" Richie gives a little shake of his head. "I'm not leaving you here. I'm staying, at least for a few more minutes." He uses his thumb to brush some hair back from Eddie's forehead. 

"Mm, that's- nice of you to say," Eddie says, his voice wavering, and then coughs wetly. Blood sprays onto Richie's face. "Sorry, I got- ah, I got blood on you." He reaches a hand up and pats Richie's cheek, smearing the blood around. Not that it makes a difference.

Richie takes his own hand and puts it on top of Eddie's, holding it to his cheek. His eyes are misty. "It's alright, Eds, I'm used to it." He tries to smile. 

Eddie's eyelids are so heavy. He closes them. His hand would drop from Richie's face if it weren't for Richie holding it there. "So... go. Kill It. Yeah?"

" _No,_ " Richie says, with more force. "I won't. I'm staying right here. Focus on my voice, Spaghetti Man, because you're going to be _fine._ I promise. I won't let you... I won't let this be it. You're breathing, your heart is beating, you're doing okay." He puts his free hand on _Eddie's_ cheek, and his touch is comforting. 

Eddie doesn't have the strength to argue anymore. It's kind of nice that Richie's here with him for this. The more he thinks about it, the more the thought of dying alone terrifies him. "Thanks," he murmurs. He can't feel his lips. 

He can't feel anything.

The last thing Eddie hears is the muffled voices of the returning Losers as he clutches onto Richie's leather jacket.

Then everything stops. That's the best way to describe it. Things _are_ , and then they _aren't_ \- like turning off a light, but instead of only the light, everything turns off. There's no sound, no shapes, no sensation at all. Not really even thought.

Eddie doesn't know how much time passes until he opens his eyes to find himself in a dark void. "H-Hello?" he calls, on instinct, not expecting an answer.

"Hello, Edward."

"Ah! What the fuck?" He jumps backwards. "What was that?" _Oh fuck, oh shit, it's Pennywise and he's going to kill me._ But then Eddie thinks, _aren't I already dead_?

"I am Maturin. The turtle."

Eddie knows he should feel scared right now, and the booming voice has given no reason to trust it, but for some reason he feels oddly comforted. "Oh. Okay."

"You did not deserve to die, Edward."

"I didn't?" Eddie looks around. Now he can see stars sprinkled within the darkness. The voice still seems to be coming from nowhere in particular. _Like I'm watching a movie in a theater,_ Eddie's brain supplies, unhelpfully.

"You died nobly - protecting your friends - but it was not a necessary death."

Eddie decides that he likes this turtle. "Yeah, I definitely wish I didn't die."

"You have a decision to make. It will quite literally affect you eternally," says Maturin. "Are you in the state of mind to make this decision?"

"Yes," Eddie says, lightly. His mind is getting clearer by the second. 

Maturin is silent, but then he speaks again. "When you are dead, there are two options. Either your essence can dissolve, rendering you unaware and your consciousness permanently erased..."

"That doesn't sound fun." Eddie absentmindedly brings a hand to his chest, discovering that his wound is still there but no longer bleeds. It's an eerie sight - he can see a little bit of his ribs through the tear in his skin.

"...Or you can spend eternity tethered to the spot where the greatest act of love was performed for you," finishes Maturin.

Eddie blinks. "That sounds... less fun. Somehow." 

Maturin chuckles sadly. "Death isn't meant to be 'fun,' Edward." He pauses. "If you choose the second option, you can change your mind and revert to the first option whenever you wish."

"Hm," says Eddie. "Can you show me where I'd be spending eternity? I mean, where the... the greatest act of love for me was performed?"

"Of course." 

Suddenly the black void is gone, and Eddie is hovering. It takes a minute for his eyes to adjust to the bright light, and then he realizes he's at the Kissing Bridge. He frowns. "What happened here that was such a great act of love?"

"Look closer."

Eddie does, squinting, and then he gasps. There, in the center of one of the boards, is an "R + E" carved into the wood. "Someone carved that for me?" He swallows a lump in his throat. "Whose name does the 'R' stand for?"

"I think you already know that, Edward."

"Richie," Eddie breathes, closing his eyes. "Oh." There's a sound of a car pulling up behind Eddie, and he turns, opening his eyes. "Wait, that's-"

 _Richie_ climbs out of the vehicle, as if summoned by his name. He's crying, walking slowly over the bridge and crouching down by the R + E.

"Here." Eddie doesn't even need to give it anymore thought. "I want to stay here."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes," Eddie says. "I don't want to leave this world forever if Richie is still in it."


	2. Richie Makes His Speech

Richie pulls out his pocketknife and positions the blade above the faded R + E carving. Carefully, he drags it down, deepening the letters and chipping away the newer coat of white paint. When he finishes re-carving the strokes, he sits back and glances around.

It's almost like Richie's eyes linger on the spot where Eddie is, just for a second, but then he looks back toward the carving. Tears spill down his cheeks.

Eddie steps closer, reaching out, but can't bring himself to touch Richie's skin.

Richie turns around so his back is to the wooden fence, and sighs. "Oh, Eds," he says, quietly, to the open air. "I wish... I wish things had turned out differently, you know?"

Eddie does know. He sits down next to Richie and puts a hand on his shoulder, wanting more than anything to comfort him but feeling powerless. No, scratch that - he's not just _feeling_ powerless, he _is_ powerless. He's a literal ghost. "So do I. Everyone else got their happy ending, but you and me and Stan were kind of left in the dust. You'd think we deserved something good for once."

Richie jumps slightly, looking around once more. Then he shakes his head. "I wish I told you before you... before you died. I wish we'd carried you out." He brings his hands to his face, wiping away tears. "I'm sorry, Eddie. You deserved better than to be left down there. That was- you hated the dark. You always... when you slept over at my house, you'd always make me put the nightlight on. You hated _Neibolt_ , too, just- all of it. It was like, Kaspbrak kryptonite, with all the dirt and germs and shit. And I fucking _left_ you, _alone,_ so that would be your grave. You never liked being alone, either."

"No, Rich, it's... it's okay." Eddie knows Richie can't hear him, but it's nice to pretend. "The place was coming down. No use in both of us dying, right?"

"I never told you, but ever since we were kids..." Richie blows out a breath. "I loved you. That's why I carved this. But I was always too scared to tell you, and I'm sorry."

Eddie feels tears fill his own eyes. "If you hadn't carved this, I wouldn't be here right now." 

"It's just..." Richie sniffles. "I'm sorry about so many things, you know? Like... that stupid comment about nominating you for a sacrifice. I didn't mean it, I swear to fucking god I didn't mean it. And I'm sorry I would always make fun of you. I didn't mean that, either. So why the fuck did I do it? I was a dumbass. Still am." He's rambling now.

"Richie, it's okay, I know you didn't mean it." Eddie squeezes Richie's shoulder, trying his hardest not to cry.

Richie keeps talking, words tumbling out of his mouth at a pace that rivals Eddie's. "I'm sorry I was a shitty friend. Bill was always such a good leader, and Mike and Bev were strong, and Ben and Stan were smart, and you... fuck. Eds, you were brave. You were so brave. What was I? I was annoying. Fuck what I said about _Stan_ being the weakest link - the weakest link was, and has always been, me. _I_ thought it was a good idea to egg Pennywise on. _I_ got stuck in the Deadlights. _I_ am the reason you died..." Richie dissolves into full-on sobs, his shoulders heaving as he buries his face in his hands.

The sight hurts Eddie. Impulsively, he leans forward and wraps his arms around Richie, gathering him into a hug. "No, Rich," he whispers. "I died because of It. Not you. It's not your fault. Don't you dare blame yourself. Please don't cry."

Richie sits up, gasping. His eyes dart wildly around; his face pales. "Who was that?" He grips his pocketknife. "I'm n-not afraid of you!"

"Richie, it's me," Eddie says desperately. He cups Richie's cheek with one hand, feeling tears beneath his palm. A desperate and hungry hope fills him. "It's Eddie." He remembers:

* * *

_It was after the rock fight, and the Losers were exhausted. One by one, everyone had gone home; Richie and Eddie were the last two. They sat in the hammock, Eddie searching through his fannypack for the right stuff to use to patch up the cut on Richie's forehead. Richie, however, would not stop moving._

_"Jesus Christ, Rich, hold_ still! _" Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, speaking through gritted teeth as Richie kept ducking away. "I can't patch you up if you're always moving!"_

_Richie laughed. (Eddie loved his laugh.) "Really, Doctor K.? I'd have thought you were so talented, you could patch someone up on a moving horse! I'd have thought you were so talented, you could patch up a flea on a dog!"_

_"That doesn't even make sense," Eddie said, even though he was trying to keep from laughing. "Anyway, be still!"_

_He reached his hand up and put it on Richie's cheek, trying to hold his head in place, but the gesture was so sudden it made Richie freeze. Both boys looked at each other, sunlight filtering down through the hatch and illuminating dust in the air._

_Eddie cleared his throat. "Thank you. Finally." He tried to continue cleaning the cut, but Richie lightly grabbed his wrist, making his heart flutter. "What-" Eddie started, but then they were kissing._

_It was nice. It was better than nice. It was amazing._

_But._

_Eddie wasn't supposed to kiss other boys. That would have made him even sicker than he was. So he pulled away after several seconds, blushing like mad._ _"What was that?" he'd asked, meekly._

_Richie was blushing too. "I dunno," he said, looking away. "Sorry."_

_"No, it's fine. I'm just- it's germy. We could get each other sick. We could get mono, mononucleosis, do you know what that is? It's known as the kissing disease. We'd get headaches and sore throats and our lymph nodes would get all swollen. It'd be gross. And my mom would kill me if I came home sick." Eddie focused on cleaning Richie's forehead. If he ranted, maybe he wouldn't think about the embarrassment._

_"Oh, of course," Richie said. He didn't even sound like he was making fun of Eddie. Then he said "Sorry" again._

_Eddie finished putting on the Band-Aid and sat back. "Yeah," he said, and then shrugged. "Well. It's nothing to be sorry about." Which didn't really make a lot of sense, but both boys seemed happy to move on.  
_

* * *

"You're..." Richie trails off, and then mouths a word that's unmistakably _'Eddie.'_ "Nope, not today. Jesus fucking Christ. This can't be happening. We squeezed your goddamn heart in our hands, _clown!_ I'm no doctor, but generally, when you're dead, you _stay dead!_ You don't come back to life to re-haunt the gang of lovesick children that you traumatized 27 years ago." He stands up quickly.

Eddie stands up, too, bringing shaking hands to his own face. In the pit of his stomach, he feels the twisting sensation of regret. _I'm a fucking idiot._ "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have- I didn't mean-" He cuts off, unsure of what to say. It doesn't matter, anyway; the spell seems to be broken and Richie can no longer hear him. The veil between the worlds of the living and dead has been sewn shut once more.

Richie backs away, and then turns around and breaks into a run. When he reaches his car, he climbs inside and slams the door behind him.

Unthinking, Eddie tries to run after him, but it's like he's leashed to the fence. There's a tugging around his torso as if from an invisible rope. All he can do is watch helplessly as Richie drives off.


	3. Richie Gives the Bridge a Second Chance

Eddie passes the time by observing. Sometimes, he pretends he's talking to Stan; asking him the names of different birds. Other times, he watches cars go by. But most of the time he sits in front of the R + E and just cries.

That's what he's doing when Richie pulls up to the bridge again the next day.

"Richie!" Eddie exclaims, standing up. Pure relief fills him. "Oh, thank fuck."

Richie gets out of the car and takes a couple steps towards the carving. He's clenching and unclenching his fists. "Um... are there any, like... spirits here? Or whatever?"

Silence. Eddie tries his best to make himself visible, but it doesn't work that way. "I'm here, Richie," he whispers, sitting back down. 

"Okay. Um. So, obviously, the last time I was here, things didn't go so well. I just got spooked. I thought I heard... Eddie." Richie lets out a dry chuckle, walking the rest of the way over to the carving and getting on his knees. "I don't even know who I'm talking to right now. Jesus Christ. If Derry weren't such a small ass town, there would be paparazzi here, and rumors would be _flying._ People would probably say I'm on drugs or something."

Eddie reaches out, hesitant to touch him again. "It's okay," he whispers. "I'm right here."

Richie sniffles, touching the carving. "I know this is stupid. I know... I know it's stupid and impossible to even think that you could- could be here. You died." His voice cracks. "You died and it's all my fault and I'm so sorry."

"No, come on, man," Eddie says, sitting down next to Richie. "Don't spiral like last time." He puts a gentle hand on Richie's shoulder and pats it.

Richie perks up for a split second, but then slumps his shoulders. "This is all so fucking stupid. He can't actually be here. Maybe I am on drugs. Maybe the innkeeper poisoned my breakfast this morning and my brain is shutting down bit by bit. I kind of deserve it. I fucking- I fucking left my best friend in the sewers. What kind of a person would do that? And now I'm talking to him like he's listening?!"

"Richie, _please._ It's me." Eddie's getting close to spiraling, himself. His heart burns with the desire for Richie to hear him, to feel his presence in some way. "I promise, it's me. I'm right here. Just _listen._ " He cups Richie's face with both his hands. 

"No, no, _no,_ no, no," mumbles Richie, squeezing his eyes shut. "Please, no. Don't fuck with me like this. If anyone is here, stop. I just lost someone. The guy... the guy I was talking to yesterday, actually. Well. I wasn't talking _to_ him, because he isn't here, because he's buried under the rubble at the _fucking_ Neibolt house because I left him there and I-" Richie lets his head drop. "I guess I just, I don't know... I thought it would be helpful to pretend that I was talking to him again, or some shit. Never mind. What the hell am I even doing now? I'm talking to the air." He gets up and moves to walk away.

"Wait, Richie, please don't leave me again!" Quickly, Eddie hugs him.

It's an impulse, really, Eddie isn't even thinking, but Richie stops in his tracks. His expression changes slightly, becomes more guarded. "...You sound just like him," says Richie. "Whoever you are, cut it the fuck out and find some other dead person to imitate." He starts to go again, but Eddie grabs his hand and holds it tightly.

"Richie," Eddie says, near tears. "It's really me. We would- we would sit in the hammock together because you would always stay in for more than 10 minutes. You wore those stupid Hawaiian shirts all the time, and once you let me borrow one, but it was too big for me and we all laughed. Your glasses were too big for your face; kids at school would tease you about them but I never let them. I got suspended once for punching someone in the nose because he called you gay. You'd do Voices a lot, like Southern Belle and Irish Cop, and they were stupid but funny because you were the one that was doing them, and you could make anything funny."

Richie freezes once more. His hand tightens around Eddie's. "Eds...?" he says, breathlessly, his voice shaking.

"Yeah, Trashmouth." Eddie laughs, softly. "It's me, buddy." He finds that he can't stop talking. "One day we went to the quarry and you, you pushed me off the ledge. I almost drowned. I yelled at you a lot but then you made a dumb face and I couldn't stop laughing. I laughed so hard I had an asthma attack, remember? Then we sat on the rocks and enjoyed the sun and you asked me who I liked and I panicked, I- I wouldn't tell you. I asked you who you liked and you said my mom. You were always saying stupid shit like that, picking on everyone but mostly me, telling me you fucked my mom and- I pretended like I hated it but I didn't."

Richie laughs tearfully. "Wow, Eds, I already knew it was you, you didn't have to drag me down memory lane again."

Eddie hugs Richie once more, and this time Richie hugs him back, a shocked look on his face. "Sorry. Just wanted to be sure. Didn't want you driving off on me like yesterday."

"It's- wow. It's fine. You're here! Holy fucking shit, you're _here!_ How?!" 

"I... there was this turtle. He said his name was Maturin. And he told me I had a choice. I could get erased and basically die again, or I could... I could spend eternity tethered to the spot where someone showed the most love for me." Eddie blushes. "Here."

Richie's face falls. "....The carving. Oh fuck. That was- I was just- I was like 13 when I did it, and I-"

"Hey, I was here yesterday too, you know. I heard you," says Eddie. "And saw you re-carve it."

"Ohh, fuck," Richie says again, wincing. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, it's just- ever since were kids, I- I thought you were cute, but I obviously never told you because you didn't like me back, but then we moved away and forgot but I never really forgot all the way, and I saw you again at Jade of the Orient - you were still hot, you know, with that stupid red jacket and your watch and your fancy hair - anyways then you, uh, died, and so I wanted to come here to, you know, honor you, and-"

"Rich, why do you think I chose to stay tethered to this spot?"

Richie's jaw drops open, kind of like in those old cartoons, but not as exaggerated. "Eds..."

Eddie smiles, then remembers that Richie can't see him, and he sighs. "Under Neibolt, I said 'I fucked your mother.' But the thing I really wanted to say is 'I love you.' I just chickened out at the last second. I was stupid, and still couldn't be brave enough, even when I was going to die any second. But I'm saying it now. I love you too, Richie. It's okay. I love you too." Slowly, he gives Richie a kiss on the cheek.

"Eddie," Richie says, bringing a hand to his face. "Eddie, my love. That's the best thing I've ever heard."

They cuddle until the sun goes down, and the spell doesn't get broken once.


	4. Eddie Makes Up For Lost Time

Richie returns early the next day, bright-eyed and with a bag of stuff. "Hey, Eddie Spaghetti," he says, sitting down next to the carving. "You here?"

"Dipshit. I'm always here, remember?" Eddie leans against Richie's shoulder. 

"Oh yeah, because you chose to stay, because of _me_ and my miraculous carving of love." Richie grins. "I brought stuff today. Food for me, and my laptop. I was thinking I could work on some new material and you could tell me if it's funny or if it fucking sucks."

"You're going to start writing your own jokes? Wow, you'll lose your entire fanbase."

Richie tries to smack him, but hits the air instead. "Very kind, Eds."

"Thank you" is what Eddie means to say, but he can't get the words out. He's realizing what it means if Richie is starting to write jokes. Warmth rushes into his cheeks. He feels so very stupid. _Of course_ Richie isn't going to stay in Derry for the rest of his life; it was selfish of Eddie to even think that. _Of course_ Richie has a life to get back to, a career. But that doesn't make it hurt any less. 

The benefit of being a ghost, at least, is that no one can see you cry.

"What do you think about gay jokes?" Richie asks.

Eddie swallows his tears. "You'd have to come out as gay first," he manages. Everything is too much. His chest feels tight. He doesn't need to breathe now, not really, but he's been going through the motions anyway to feel _normal._ Once Richie leaves, there won't be anything for Eddie here. He can't really reveal his presence to anyone else without sparking an investigation or something; now that It is gone, the police aren't apathetic anymore. What will he even do? Sit around for _eternity_? Is that what he's condemned himself to?

No, he can always go back and choose the first option. Maturin will erase him from existence and he can finally rest in peace - but Richie will still be here. _That doesn't matter,_ Eddie tells himself. _He'll find a way to survive without me. He's strong like that._

"That's true." Richie opens his laptop and creates a new document, staring at the screen. "I guess I could talk about my childhood trauma, right? That's always a fun subject to joke about."

"Mhm," hums Eddie. He memorizes Richie's face, every detail. Someday soon, Richie is leaving and Eddie... Eddie will too, but in a different way. A more permanent way. The thought should bring him peace, but it just makes him feel sick. He decides to breach the subject. "So... when are you leaving?"

"When it gets dark. Why?"

More tears burn in Eddie's eyes. "I mean, when are you leaving _Derry?_ "

Richie is quiet for a few moments, and then he says "Eds, why would you think I'm leaving?"

"Because you have a job, Rich. You have a job and an apartment and _living_ people who care about you. You're not going to want to stay in this shitty town for the rest of your life just so you can visit your dead friend." Eddie doesn't try to hide his sobs anymore. He cuddles closer to Richie, feeling his warmth while he still can. _Someday soon,_ he thinks, _I will never see Richie again. He will leave and I'll be left to grieve for a week or so, and then I'll ask Maturin to erase me from existence. It won't be so bad. Maybe it'll just feel like falling asleep. But... with no dreams, and I'll never wake up._

"Eds..." Richie says, softly. "Eddie, I'm not... I'm not leaving you. I'm going to switch to doing virtual shows for a while, and when people get bored of that, I'll get a job here. I just got you back. There's no way I'll abandon you here to become a lowly bridge troll, left to call out 'who's that trip-trapping upon my bridge?' and bully the three goats gruff for fucking forever. I'm not that big of an asshole."

"But Richie, your whole _life_ is in LA." Eddie sniffles.

Richie gropes blindly for Eddie's hand, and grabs it. "Eddie, you are my life. You mean too much for me to just leave you - even if you are... dead. Okay? I'm going to be cheesy for a second, so bear with me." He takes a deep breath. "I love you more than I've ever loved anyone or anything. During the twenty years that we forgot, I never had a boyfriend or a girlfriend or anything like that because some part of me still remembered you, and remembered how you made me feel. You're like my true love, Sleeping Beauty. Besides, you gave your life for me. Why can't I give mine for you?"

Eddie feels nothing but joy. "Really?"

"Of course." 

He blots at his cheek with his sleeve, even though it's useless because he's crying so hard. "Thanks, Rich. That means more than you know." _Myra would never in a million years give up her life for me like this,_ he thinks. _She pretends to care, but mostly it's overprotectiveness and anger. I'm not a child. I didn't need her to control every aspect of my life. I just stayed with her because it was safe._ Eddie wracks his brain and remembers that he too never truly forgot his feelings for Richie. _But Myra was like my Ma, and I thought I needed that. Now I can see through her bullshit. She doesn't love me and she never has._

There's a fluttering of hope in his chest. Could this really happen? Might he actually be happy with Richie? So much has been taken away from him - his childhood, his friends, his chance at happiness, his _life_ \- mostly from the clown, but partially from his own shortcomings as a result of his Ma's abuse. Now he's finally getting a chance to be with someone he loves so dearly. It seems impossible. But it can't be, because it's happening.

Eddie Kaspbrak _loves_ Richie Tozier.

And they can be happy together.

Even if it's not the way they expected.


	5. Richie and Eddie Face Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update! My mental health has been ~awful~ but at least I graduated high school and also got a job, yay!

Richie comes to the bridge again, and this time he stops in his tracks.

"Rich? What's wrong?" If Eddie had a heart, it would be beating out of his chest with fear. _Please, please don't take this away from me. I was happy._ We _were happy._

"I-" Richie's eyes widen. "Eds, I can see you!"

Eddie breaks out into a grin. "Really? Holy shit! Holy _shit!_ " Richie's actually looking _at_ him instead of _through_ him. The difference is stark. 

Nodding, Richie smiles too. "Yeah, it's- it's on and off. Like, uh, like a flash, here and there. But I _see_ you! You're wearing-" His face falls so quickly that it's almost comical. "Well. You're wearing what you were when you... um. Died." The last word is a whisper. 

"I know, it sucks. Did you know that the wound is still here?" Eddie tries to keep his voice steady, but it wavers. _There is a hole in my chest._ Even though of course he's aware, of course he knows - it still makes him feel woozy when he remembers. He presses a hand to his sternum, inches above the wound. "It doesn't hurt. I promise. Look, Richie, I'm okay."

Richie walks the rest of the way up to Eddie, and grabs his hand on the first try. "I mean. Not really. Eds, you're a ghost. I fucking hate it - but it's true." He rests his chin on the top of Eddie's head and sighs. "I love you so much."

Eddie sniffles. "I love you, too." The trees move with a light breeze, and Eddie can barely feel it, but it's still chilly enough that he wishes he had a jacket. Then he remembers: "Hey, Richie? I still have your jacket." He breaks away from the embrace, leans down, and picks up the crumpled leather by the fence. 

"You do? I don't see any-" Richie cuts his words off when Eddie dumps the jacket in his hands. Suddenly, the material becomes visible. He blinks. "Wow! That's, hm. So it's invisible when you hold it, but if I'm with it..."

"...You can see it," finishes Eddie. "I guess so. Weird laws of ghost physics, and all that."

"I wonder if it would work that way with anything else." Richie gets a mischievous look on his face. He puts on the jacket and finds both of Eddie's hands.

Eddie laughs nervously. "What do you mean?"

And then Richie is picking him up.

It's weird at first - a rush of air and a feeling that's almost like floating - but Eddie quickly gets past the initial lightheadedness and looks down at Richie. "Did it do anything?"

He already knows the answer to that question by seeing Richie's face. He's gazing up, at Eddie, eyes glimmering with tears. "Eds," Richie says. "Eddie."

That's all it takes to make Eddie start crying as well. "Richie..." He wraps his arms around Richie, holding him as tightly as he can. He'd forgotten how nice it is to be seen, to be held- especially by Richie. 

"It's been _so long_ since I've seen your face, Eds, I almost forgot how cute you are." Richie searches Eddie's face, and slowly sits down, so Eddie is in his lap. "Can you stay here forever?"

"Here as in 'in your lap?' Or here as in... you know." ' _This world'_ is what Eddie wants to say, but finds that he can't. He hasn't even thought about the fact that he can permanently die, for real, if he wants. He doesn't want to, obviously. It's just an option. _A terrifying option. An existence-ending option. An option that can tear me away from Richie for all eternity._

Richie kisses him lightly. "Both," he whispers. "Please don't leave me. I can't lose you a third time." He kisses Eddie again, this time harder. 

"You know I can't sit here forever, right? And neither can you." Eddie's half trying to lighten the mood, but half being serious. "You seeing me isn't permanent. It'll go away whenever you stop holding me. Things will return to normal, or at least as normal as they can be. Even if you stay in Derry, you will live your life and die, and for some reason I don't feel like this god-turtle is going to give you the same choice he gave me. You'll die for good. I will too."

"Fuck, Eds," Richie says, his voice raw. "I didn't really want to think about that. Couldn't you have let me be in denial for a few more days?" He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Listen. I'm going to come here every day and you can sit in my lap so I can see you. And at some point, let's try to talk to this 'god-turtle.' I'll give it a piece of me and see what it has to say. Alright?"

"Okay, Richie," Eddie says. Then he snaps his fingers. "Holy shit, the others! Richie! We need to tell everyone else that I'm back!"

Richie winces. "Ah, yeah. I know." He's quiet.

"What do you mean, 'I know?' Why haven't you brought them here yet?" Eddie softens his voice. "Hey. What's wrong?"

"I... wanted to have you to myself for a bit. I know, it was selfish. But I knew... I knew as soon as I told the others, they'd all want to see you, and I wouldn't get alone time for a while. I'm sorry, Eds." Richie pulls out his phone. "Look, I'll call them right now."

He dials Mike. "Hey, Mikey. Can you bring everyone over to the kissing bridge?" A smile is growing on his face; he can't stop it. 

"Hi. I don't see why not. You sound... happy."

"I am! I'm very happy!" Richie messes up Eddie's hair with one hand. "Everything's great. Please hurry up and get over here _as soon as possible_. I need to show you something. Time is of the essence, Hanlon!"

"Okay." Mike sounds like he's smiling too. "I'm glad to hear you're happy. I'll pick Bev, Ben, and Bill up, and we'll be right over. Sound good?"

"Sounds _amazing,_ " says Richie. "Bye!"

"Bye."

Richie hangs up the phone and slips it back into his pocket. "Oh, Eds, this is going to be fantastic. What's the plan?"

"Does there have to be a plan?" Eddie leans into Richie. "I'll just sit here and wait for them to notice me. I promise - we'll get plenty of alone time after they leave."

* * *

Because Derry is a small town and therefore doesn't have busy roads, Mike's car pulls up to the kissing bridge pretty quickly. Before it even rolls to a stop, Bev is throwing open the door and booking it towards where Richie and Eddie sit up against the worn wooden fence. " _Eddie?!"_ She drops to her knees, cupping Eddie's face between her palms, sobs catching in her throat. "Oh my God, Eddie!" Reaching forward, she gathers him into a fierce hug.

"Bev." Eddie grins. "I missed you."

Three other pairs of footsteps are approaching, fast. "Eddie?" Bill chokes out, crouching down, tentatively putting a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "I don't understand."

"Me neither, Big Bill, me neither." Richie takes a deep breath and lets all the air out. "He died, and then some sort of magical turtle told him that he could stay on Earth if he spent eternity in the place that someone showed the most love for him, and, well, I carved our initials here twice - once as kids, and once a few days ago after the fight. So."

"A turtle?" Mike asks. "Maturin?"

"Yeah," says Eddie. "How did you know?"

"Maturin was a sacred figure in Shokopiwah legend. He is Pennywise's brother, and his opposite." Mike pats Eddie's knee. "Did he make you a ghost?"

"I guess. The only reason I'm visible right now is because Richie's holding me." Eddie looks nervous. He squeezes Richie's hand. _Tell them. I'm too scared._

Richie gives Eddie's hand a reassuring squeeze back. The chatter becomes background noise. One mean voice in his head that's been active for Richie's entire life cuts in and says _'dirty little secret,'_ but Richie silences it. "Hey, guys? We love each other." 

Ben laughs. "That's not news, Richie. We could tell." He takes his turn hugging Eddie. "No offense, but it was very obvious."

"Not to us," Richie mumbles, pouting. "It took Eddie literally dying for me to be honest. Oops."

"I forgive you." Eddie kisses him on the cheek, and then looks around at the other Losers. "I'm so happy to see you guys. I've just been alone, except for when Richie visits. But now you're all here." He's smiling through his tears.

Ben laughs. "We're so happy to see you too, Eddie."

They talk for a long time, until the sun sets and darkness falls. Eddie does indeed become invisible again - left to contemplate existence alone through the rest of the cold night.


	6. Richie and Eddie Face Maturin

"Tonight's the night, Eddie my love," Richie says. "You ready to hop into each other's dreams and stare down this turtle god?"

He's come armed with a pillow and a sleeping bag big enough for two.

Eddie smiles nervously. "Ready as I'll ever be."

They climb into the sleeping bag, Richie wrapping his arms around Eddie in order to make him visible. It's an unseasonably warm night and the bullfrogs are croaking from down in the Barrens. The moon is full, so hopefully there's magic in the air.

Richie falls asleep first. His breaths even out. Eddie listens to his heartbeat; counts to a hundred; feels himself starting to drift off not soon after. 

The next thing he's aware of is endless space. It seems to be the same place he woke up in after he died. "Richie?" he calls, starting to panic, but his nerves calm when he hears "I'm right here, Eds" from behind him.

Eddie turns around and runs up to Richie, pressing himself up against his side. They're both wearing the clothes they slept in - or, are _still_ sleeping in, really. "I wasn't really sure this would even work, to be honest." He laughs a little, huddling closer. The stars glitter in the darkness that surrounds them both. If Eddie squints, he can make out a faint turtle-shaped shadow in the distance. "Hello?" he calls, his voice shaking. "M-Maturin?"

"Richard; Edward," a booming voice says. It's even more intimidating than the last time. "You would like to speak with me. I can sense it."

"Uh... yeah!" Richie yells; his own voice echoes back. "My boyfriend-" He turns to Eddie. "Is it okay if I call you that?"

Eddie nods, too terrified to do anything else, and Richie continues.

"My boyfriend is dead, and you're keeping him as a ghost. But he was killed fighting Pennywise, your bastard brother, right? It was really fucking brave. So we were kind of hoping that, I don't know, maybe you could... like... make him alive again?" 

"Is that true?" asks Maturin.

Eddie pushes away his fear and stands tall. "Yes, your honor." _Your honor? What the fuck?_ Richie laughs; Eddie elbows him. "Sorry. Sir? Your majesty? I don't- I don't really know what the protocol is here, or how to address magical turtles."

"Just 'Maturin' is fine." He sounds amused, if it is possible for an ancient reptilian god to sound amused. "I have made an observation that you love each other."

"Uh-huh." Richie holds Eddie tighter, protectively, as if shielding him from some unseen danger. 

Maturin's form grows closer and more distinguishable. "Edward, you died in Derry. It was a cruel and needless slaughter. My brother cruelly and needlessly slaughtered so many, of course, but _you...._ you were different. You had wounded him seconds before. Your courage, your belief - he did not strike you with his full force. He did not mortally injure your soul. The others, he had time with. He was able to savor the children that he took and crack open their very spirits. With you, though, he could not. You died only because your body had been hurt and your lifeblood was left to spill freely onto the ground."

"O...Okay," says Eddie. His mouth is dry. "Not really seeing how you recounting my gory death is helping, but okay." It physically pains him to hear this. A burning ache opens up near his heart, twisting and pulling as he remembers how it felt to die. The cold; the loneliness. Richie squeezes his shoulder in comfort.

"Your soul is intact, Edward." Maturin becomes clearer. "This means that all you are truly missing is a body. Your old body was crushed under the wreckage of my brother's lair; not much of it remains, and what does is contaminated by the darkness that lives there."

Eddie glances at Richie, and then back at Maturin. "Can you make me a new one?"

It's hard to tell, but it almost seems like Maturin is smiling. "You will find you have come quite a long way in that area yourself. Could you not interact with the living world? Could Richie not pick you up? Could your friends not all see you?"

"I mean, I guess so," Richie says, looking at Eddie. "Not at first, but you got the hang of it, you know?" He turns, staring Maturin straight in his beady, galaxy-filled eyes. "What's your point?"

"My point is, Richard, that all Edward needs is a minor push - a push that I am more than willing to give him. He has proven his strength and his desire to return to the living world."

Eddie gasps sharply, curling his fingers into fists. Looking at his chest reveals that the wound is now gone. "My- _shit-_ my chest," he manages, gritting his teeth. "It's..."

"Healed, yes," says Maturin. "Your ghostly body is repairing itself. This is the final step in the process of gaining life back." Then he's gone, a _pop_ sounding as air rushes back into the space he was occupying.

"Mat-" Eddie begins, but the distance between he and Richie suddenly begins to expand. "Richie!" He stumbles, reaching out, hands closing on emptiness. Richie grows smaller and smaller until he's only a faraway dot. " _Richie!"_

Maturin speaks again. His voice seems to be inside Eddie's head. ' _Edward,'_ he says. ' _You need to do this alone. You need to_ remember _alone. Only then will your body make the last leap.'_

"I can't!" splutters Eddie. The pain in his chest reaches nearly unbearable levels. "I-"

* * *

"Do you guys think we'll still be friends? When we're older?"

They're all in the clubhouse. Eddie's lying in the hammock with Richie the way he always does. _Because Richie never takes turns_ , he thinks, even though he knows the real reason is that the two of them just like being close.

"What?" Richie says, at the same time that Eddie says "Why wouldn't we be?"

"Do- do any of your parents still hang out with their friends from middle school?" asks Stan.

Eddie can see Richie getting anxious, can _feel_ it like it's his own emotions. He uses his socked foot to fling Richie's glasses off his face. He's not really listening to Stan anymore because Richie is more important. The thought of not being friends with the Losers - with _Richie_ \- makes him sick; it's best to pretend like the conversation isn't happening. He wants to grow up with these people by his side, is that too much to ask? He wants to be happy. He doesn't want his time with them to end just because they're growing up. He hopes to go to college to become a doctor or nurse; even though medical stuff makes him nervous he's always had an affinity for it. 

He really doesn't want to grow apart from everyone else.

Will he ever get to see Richie in college? Or Bev, or Stan, or any of them? _Will_ they hang out? Or will they just drift away from each other, lose touch, and never speak again?

No. That's not going to happen. He won't let it.

* * *

Eddie bites his tongue to keep from screaming in pain. He _did_ let it happen. "I missed out on so much," he cries out weakly, falling to his knees. His vision blacks out around the edges. "We all missed out on so much."

 _‘But it is not over yet, Edward,’_ Maturin whispers in his head. _‘You lost each other. You got each other back, but then they lost you. Now you have a chance to re-link that broken chain and forge your bond stronger, never to shatter again.’_

"I want to," mumbles Eddie. "Please. Please. I want to."

* * *

He wakes up with a start to Richie shaking him. 

"Oh, thank _fuck_ , I thought you were dead." Richie pulls him up into a sitting position and hugs him. "Eds, you did it. You _did_ it! Look at you!"

Eddie looks down at himself with wonder. There's no trace of the wound that killed him. He looks back up at Richie. "And you can see me?"

Richie's response is the best-sounding word in the world to Eddie at that moment - a resounding " _Yes!!!"_

"I'm not letting you go again." Tears flood Eddie's eyes. "We're done missing out. Let's get _married_ , you asshole."

"I've been called better pet names," Richie says, earning him a smack on the shoulder. "But of fucking course. Let's do it."

They recarve the R + E for a third time, _together,_ take a picture in front of it while kissing as a final _fuck you_ to the town of Derry, and then they walk away from that damned bridge for the last time. 


End file.
